I did not want to think so much about her

I did not want to think so much about her. I wanted to take her as an unexpected, delightful gift, that had come and would go again — nothing more. I meant not to give room to the thought that it could ever be more. I knew too well that all love has the desire for eternity and that therein lies its eternal torment. Nothing lasts. Nothing.

Erich Maria Remarque, "Three Comrades"

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From books  |  Desire  |  Delight  |  Gift  |  Eternity

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